


real

by tsuluio



Series: the oc universe [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, Elliot Needs A Hug, Emotional Manipulation, Everything is platonic rn, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Linear Narrative, Suicidal Thoughts, Transgender, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuluio/pseuds/tsuluio
Summary: before i love youi’m gonna leave youbefore i’m someone you leave behindi’ll break your heart so you don’t break mine--Therealreason why he doesn't show emotion.
Series: the oc universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604218
Kudos: 3





	real

**Author's Note:**

> tw for dysphoria, transphobic comments/actions, suicidal thoughts & graphic violence
> 
> also kyo and rumi belong to my friend!! all characters are original characters.

—

"What's your name? You fix things really well." 

He jumps at the voice and turns to find a young boy about his own age, crimson tentacles wavering in the breeze, multicolored fingers grasping as the end of a dripping paintbrush. "I--" He's never considered introducing himself to anyone, because his parents always spoke for him anyway. "I'm--"

The other doesn't wait for him. "I'm Chase! It's nice to meet you! I actually came to ask, uh.."

The boy trails off. He can relate a little too much.

"M-My name's Elliot," he manages, in the time span where the other is still trying to work out what they came over to stay. Chase's eyes brighten immediately, instead of what he was dreading.

“Okay! Nice to meet you, Elliot!”

The kid stays near him the entire rest of the day and while he doesn’t usually enjoy company, this feels kinda nice. Being  _ Elliot _ is kinda nice too. 

He can live with that. 

\--

They move away months later, to Inkopolis. Chase hugs him before he leaves, and he catches his mother’s disapproving look as they climb into the car.

“Write to me,” Chase calls after their departure, and Elliot’s mother responds by rolling up the window and moving on past the village boundaries.

\--

Neyah is his first real friend from Inkopolis, the girl who he likes, the girl who likes him back. 

_ Love. Evidence of care and kindness in the world. Sometimes coupled with sexual attraction. _

They're only twelve.

They hold hands on the bus to school, and she kisses him on the cheek before flouncing off into her classroom. He walks her home that one day afterschool where it's pouring rain and he supposes that things could be worse.

It's a problem he hasn't come out to her yet, but he can't find the words to hurt their relationship.

\--

The elastic is tight in his hand, the colorful band wrapped around his fingers. It probably doesn't help much that he's twisting it in his hands, struggling to convince himself this is a good idea, that he'll be better if he just does it just this once, just to see what it's like before he shoves the elastic into the trash and never looks at it again.

It must be twenty minutes by now, ever since his parents left the house, and it'll only be another ten before they return. That realization sends another spiral of anxiety through his gut and he lets go of the band, watching it bounce aimlessly on the ground before coming to a stop.

His hearts are pounding, though he doesn't know why. Why is he so  _ scared _ ?

He knows why. He knows why, but he can't think it, can't say it or else it'll be more true than the words, grating and sharp, cutting across his vision as he struggles back tears, more proof that he's weak, that he can't handle himself. 

Without thinking, he bends down and retrieves the band, hand slipping into it the way he's seen others do so many times before, his own father tying his tentacles up before leaving for work, Inklings leaving the lobby, tentacles askew until they tightened it. With a shaky grip, he reaches up and grabs the middle of his left tentacle, feeling his hand slide on its smooth surface before lifting it up, back behind his head. Using his other hand, he pushes his right tentacle into place too, pinching the two together with his index finger and his thumb. His breaths are coming in quavery gasps.

The band snapping into place is the only thing that hits his ears fully, the sound awakening him from his fearful trance, and he's able to stare at himself in the mirror, arms lowered to his sides, and take in his reflection.

His tentacles are pulled back, tied atop his head in the standard Inkling boy hairstyle, slightly lopsided from no practice, but  _ there _ .

It's like a giant weight is lifted off his shoulders the more he looks, and it's suddenly very clear to him that this is who he is. 

_ This _ is who he is, not the weird little girl who fixes bikes during lunch, not the girl who sprints a little faster than the boys during gym, not the girl so dangerously obsessed with the things that  _ boys _ do, that girls aren't supposed to do. Not any of that.

"Elliot," he whispers, still staring at himself in the eyes. He looks so scared, and he tries to recompose himself. "My name is  _ Elliot _ , not Ella."

Each time he says his name, he feels a little lighter, a little less queasy, and he gives himself a tentative smile in the mirror before the door downstairs slams open and he jumps violently, ripping the elastic from his tentacles, throwing it into the depths of his room.

"Ella, sweetie, can you come help us with groceries?" his mother calls, and he steels himself, grimacing as he descends the stairs, the forbidden hair tie in the back of his mind, his  _ real  _ reflection in the mirror, his slight  _ real _ smile, all of it as he takes one step after another, his  _ real _ name echoing in his head.

_ Elliot. _

Chase would be proud of him.

\--

His body feels like it’s going through the worst pain imaginable, like a knife is being driven into his guts, twisting in so easily, he wishes he could die. He doesn’t make a single sound as he tries to combat the pain, trying not to let his teammates’ attention drawn to him. Rumi doesn’t like him, Kyo is somewhat intimidated by him, and Chase? Well, he can’t tell with Chase anymore.

His expression doesn’t change from neutral, almost slightly amused, as he digs his fingers into his stomach, as if adding more pain will force the original source out. He doesn’t even want to remember why he feels like this.

He excuses himself from the table, moving to the bathroom before anyone can even acknowledge it.

\--

"Gotta promise to me you will tell someone sometime." Chase watches him, mouth set in a thin line. His words are too deep to be coming from a six year old. "You'll be moving away to people who don't know who you are. You gotta tell them. Promise me.”

Chase looks so serious, so much older in that moment, that Elliot nods. 

“I promise.”

\--

"Ella's not my real name," he whispers to Neyah on the bus. She blinks at him. 

"Really?" There's curiosity in her eyes, and since she's his best friend -- girlfriend? -- and means a lot to him, he nods back, allowing her excitement to affect him.

"Yeah."

"Well, what is it, then?"

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Yeah, yeah, I  _ promise _ ."

He pauses, looks around to make sure everyone's preoccupied. They're all too busy doing whatever they like to do, so he deems himself safe. "It's Elliot."

He watches her smile falter, twitch horrendously before flatlining into a permanent grimace. Her lips are turned upwards, but there's no emotion and she's clearly faking it. "Well. That's great, uh,  _ Elliot _ . Nice  _ real _ name there. Do your parents know yet?"

He can feel his good feelings slip away, followed by dread, though he manages to keep a straight face instead of letting his despair show. "No, actually."

When he gets home a few days later, his mom smiles at him stiffly and sits him down for a 'talk'. Girls do girl things, boys do boy things, the usual. His blood is rushing too fast for him to really think about it or even hear her say "I hope you can figure out the truth soon, sweetheart."

Neyah had ratted him out.

The last time he can trust anyone. She was his last resort. And she betrayed him.

He wonders briefly what Chase is up to. 

\--

"It's  _ real _ ," Chase says firmly, large childish eyes widening in seriousness. " _ You're _ real." He can almost see his reflection in Chase's eyes, and though he's on the verge of tears, he smiles.

"Thanks."

—

"You're not a boy, Ella."

That's not the response he was expecting. He  _ feels _ like a boy, and he's absolutly sure he's definitely not a girl. But his mother knows best, and she's watching him with a disapproving stare that makes him feel small.

"You're a girl, sweetie. I think you might be a little confused. Whatever thoughts you're having isn't real."

No. No, he's not  _ confused.  _ He's been like this for years now. There's no way he's confused. The condescending tone from his parents are just too much, and for the first time, he doubts himself. 

Why aren't they supporting him? Why aren't they letting him do this? Is it  _ bad _ that he wants to be a boy?

_ Don't cry. That shows that they win. _

He swallows his tears and nods like he understands. "Okay," he says, and leaves the room, eyes and hearts burning.

_ Anger. Reaction to unfairness, a violation of self. _

A part of him solidifies into stone. He doesn't feel that real anymore.

\--

He’s weak. He can’t take care of anything and everything’s going downhill. His parents, his friends, his life. 

The top story of a skyscraper seems ideal but he knows he’s being cowardly. He can’t cry to his parents; they don’t care. He can’t talk to his friends; they’ve isolated and abandoned him. He can’t do anything but think, and he realizes that the cause of all this was because he’s too  _ human _ . 

And with that knowledge comes the overwhelming feeling of numbness. 

\--

He doesn’t make it past the kitchen door before Chase calls his name. He can’t turn to face the other due to the pain lancing up and down his abdomen, as well as the lack of lung space along his chest. Since when did his binder get so tight?

“Elliot? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he manages to say. 

_ Pain. Physical or emotional. Will affect all parts of the body regardless of infliction. _

Chase doesn’t sound convinced at all, and that causes Kyo to notice the scene unfolding before him as well and join in the conversation that Elliot wants to  _ leave _ for cod’s sake.

“Elli-ot? What’s wrong?”

Nothing, he tries to say, but it’s hard to breathe. His vision is swimming now, slightly blurred, and another sharp lash of pain stabs into his left knee as he falls.

"Cramp? Chest?" They're vague enough words to keep the meaning subtle and Elliot feels something he hasn't felt in a long time.

_ Gratitude. Feeling thankful for something or someone. _

"Yes," he grates out, and Chase helps him stand.

"Bathroom?"

"Yes."

\--

He doesn’t trust Chase’s judgment when letting strangers into the apartment, but the Octoling supposedly self-named as Kyo is as intelligent as a outsider can get. 

Their incessant questions drill into his mind, but he's learned to tune them out while answering them at the same time, unwilling to let it break his concentration.

And Kyo learns things better than Chase. That's always a plus.

\--

"Rumi," the other Octoling replies, narrowed eyes making him feel like he's being judged. He keeps a straight face, however, and the other continues. "They/them for pronouns."

Something inside of him cracks open, something warm that would make him tear up if he didn't try to remove his own tear ducts two years ago. He's not entirely alone.

Rumi makes him feel a little more real.

Just a little.

\--

He finds Chase broken and bloodied among the wreckage of his old village. He barely recognizes him due to the amount of mutilation and the fact that they’ve been separated for ten years. The village is painted blue with blood, scattered Inkling remains strung across the square. It's grotesque, but also beautiful in a sickening, twisted way.

He doesn't feel a need to cry; it’s more of a hollow feeling, one that stays with him when Chase finally wakes up, wakes up to a new body, a new life, a new responsibility. 

His friend has every right to be mad at him. He took away his freedom. 

But he doesn’t feel guilty. 

Or does he?

—

The boy with crimson tentacles meets him again at the village square, paint bucket in hand. He offers the other a quizzical look, and Chase offers a smile before getting to work. 

He watches as the younger paints thick swirls onto the pebbled floor, rainbows curling across the square almost as if it’s in his first nature.

Elliot feels peculiar -- happy? -- while watching.

It’s so  _ beautiful _ . It almost looks real.

—

Rumi's left hook nearly catches him in the face; he avoids it just in time and the next punch comes nearly out of nowhere. It catches him in the chest, and instead of overwhelming pain,  _ fear _ is what crosses his mind first.

_ Fear is a natural instinct. Responds directly to guilt, conscience, knowledge of hiding something. _

But the facts can't take away from his own fear anyway. 

Rumi, thankfully, doesn't seem to notice, and Elliot's own control of his emotions keep him from giving himself away. 

The sparring round continues.

\--

"I love you," Neyah says sleepily, burrowing her face into her pillow. "You know that, right?"

He ignores the curdling feeling in his stomach and nods. "Yeah."

He doesn't say I love you back.

\--

Rumi's expression when Elliot lets himself get socked in the stomach is nothing short of anger and slight panic. He just lays there on the ground until Rumi kicks him.

"Get up."

He ignores the pain stabbing into his side, the tightening feeling of his binder, and stands again.

Round two.

\--

Chase is crying hot, angry tears that would make Elliot scared, but all he can think of is that Chase should probably remove his tear ducts.

He should've removed them himself while his friend was out.

He thinks better than to say it aloud though.

\--

Kyo loses it during a glowfly round and the result is more than a few minor injuries and a very apologetic, very distant Kyo. Both Chase and Rumi are doing their own thing to try to cheer him up.

Elliot just sits there, feeling nothing.

\--

His mother sneers at him the day he said he was moving out. 

"Aren't you supposed to feel a little grateful for your parents? Feel a little love? Guilt? Fear? Nothing?"

He nods, though he doesn't know what he's nodding to.

"Yeah. Nothing."

He leaves without looking back.

\--

He asks if he's real one day, and all three of his teammates give him such confused and incredulous looks that he wants to take it back.

"Why the fuck wouldn't you be real?" Rumi.

"Yeah, you're real." Chase.

"You seem real." Kyo.

They aren't lying, and Elliot feels stupid in the span of a millisecond he lets the stone in his heart to crumble. 

He's  _ real.  _ That's all that matters.

_ Happiness. Feeling of joy, comfort. The most positive feeling. _

  
  



End file.
